The next movements of the Vigilantes were followed up with remarkable expedition. The work they had laid out contemplated the execution of every member of Plummer’s band who, upon fair trial, should be proved guilty of robbery or murder. They intended also to punish such incidental rascals as were known to be guilty of crime, and to act as a protective police, until such time as a competent judiciary should be established in the Territory. There were many suspicious characters prowling around the gulches, who, though unaffiliated with the robber gang, were engaged in the constant commission of crimes. Flumes were robbed, burglaries committed, and broils were of frequent occurrence. The country was full of horse and cattle thieves. By prompt and severe punishment in all cases of detection, and by the speedy arrest and examination of all suspected persons, the Committee intended to strike with terror the entire lawless population, which had so long and unceasingly violated the laws and privileges of civilized life with impunity. The execution of Plummer, Stinson, and Ray met with general approbation. Every good man in the community was anxious to become enrolled on the list of the Vigilantes. The dark shadow of crime, which had hung like an angry cloud over the Territory, had faded before the omnipresence of Vigilante justice. The very feeling of safety inspired by the change was the strongest security for the growth and efficiency of the organization. The morning succeeding the execution, the Committee met to devise further measures for the arrest of the criminals still at large. None of the reputed members of Plummer’s band were then in Bannack. There was, however, a Mexican known by the name of Jo Pizanthia, living in a little cabin built against the side of one of the hills overlooking the town. Being the only Mexican in the place, he went by the designation of “The Greaser.” He brought with him to the Territory the reputation of a desperado, robber, and murderer. With a view to investigating his career in the Territory, the Committee ordered his immediate arrest, and sent a party to the cabin to effect it. The little building was closed, and there was nothing in the appearance of the newly fallen snow to indicate that it had been occupied since the previous day. George Copley and Smith Ball, two esteemed citizens, led the public force, and, advancing in front of it to the door of the cabin, called upon the Mexican by name to come forth. No answer being made, they concluded, against the advice of their comrades, to enter the cabin. Cautiously lifting the latch, the two men stepped over the threshold, each receiving, as he did so, the fire of the desperate inmate. Copley was shot in the breast, and Ball in the hip. Both staggered out, exclaiming in the same breath, “I’m shot.” Two of the company supported Copley to the hotel, but the poor fellow died of the wound in a few moments. Ball recovered sufficiently to remain upon the ground.